Young Folks
by Aglionby
Summary: Arthur lies awake one night, next to Alfred, and reminiscences their past together. USUK, Human AU. Warning: Light BDSM (D/s, S/M, bondage, spanking, humiliation), sex, drinking, and drug use in later chapters.


_If I told you things I did before, told you how I used to be_  
 _Would you go along with someone like me_?  
 _If you knew my story word for word, had all of my history_  
 _Would you go along with someone like me?  
_

―Young Folks, Peter Bjorn and John

 **Prologue**

Unless it was money, nothing in the world is more powerful than sex drive.

 _Wet, sweaty, and electric_. Arthur felt nothing but mesmerised by ecstasy and skin. The smell was musty, his flesh was damp, and his entire body was heated to the core. His arms reached out haphazardly as it seemed like he could never get close enough to his pursuer.

Arthur could feel the hot breath against his neck, that of Alfred's lips whispering sweet nothings in his ear. The heat of carefully placed kisses was nothing in comparison to that of the temperature blowing up in his groin. The sensation pulsated throughout his body till his limbs began to quiver and his heart was racing umpteen beats per minute.

 _Deeper, faster, harder, louder._

Arthur's fingers clenched the sheets as his body was ravaged. The friction increased till there was a wet ' _pop_ ' and release gave way. One worn out body collapsed upon the other like a chain of dominoes.

* * *

Arthur knew this feeling of exhaustion like the back of his hand; he lived for it. He lived for love and was blinded by lust. Love came with companionship, and of course the thrill of sex. Nonetheless, it wasn't all about sex.

As Alfred looked at him with those big doe eyes, he knew he could never forget it.

Love was never about having it made. It wasn't about finding someone that had the greatest possibility of prospering in business. Love was something so much greater, and it definitely wasn't tied to sex either.

"Hey, Artie. We just banged and you're already looking lost," Alfred raised his voice.

 _Not that sex was bad―_

Arthur was abruptly drawn from his thoughts, "Oh, I am? Ah, love, I was just thinking about something."

"What about?"

"Nothing important."

"Mmhm, okay then."

Alfred rested his head on Arthur's chest, never taking his eyes off of him. He would always seem to know when Arthur was lying to him.

"You don't believe me, do you? How about if I said it was just something silly?"

Alfred grinned, "Now I want to know more."

"Oh fine... I as just recalling that you look just how you used to."

"How I used to?"

"Yes, you haven't changed one bit," Arthur reached out and put his hand into Alfred's hair, "let's see, you're still reckless and obnoxious. And you still have those blasted blue eyes I fall for every day."

The Briton was clearly trying to butter him up, and Alfred suppressed a smirk at this, "I can say the same thing to you. You're still an uptight smart ass, but you've got something awfully attractive about you," he looked over and batted his blues, "Oh, and Artie, as smart as you are, you're a shitty liar."

Arthur snorted, "Am not," he pushed Alfred's face away.

"Mmhmm," Alfred made a noise in reply. He wasn't even offended.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

Arthur looked round them, then sighed. If they kept on for too long they would be up all night arguing and gabbing away. There were things to get done in the morning and Alfred knew as well as himself that Arthur Kirkland budged for no one.

"I think it's safe to say the both of us are exhausted, let's think about bed, sweetheart."

Alfred decided to drop it in favour of sleep, "Ohhh, so my name isn't arsehole anymore?" he lightly teased, "Don't 'cha think we should clean up first, _pumpkin'_?"

Arthur was stunned. Aright, maybe the pet name was a little unlike him.

"Fine, fine, Alfred..."

He had been too troubled by his own thoughts to remember that sex did not come without a mess, and Arthur Kirkland was also known to hate messes. Alas, this time he wouldn't mind dealing with dry cum in the morning. He was dog-tired after their little rendezvous. And not to sound rude, but they were sleeping in a hotel and it wasn't really their job to clean the sheets.

"Let's pass tonight, we have to get up early."

Despite bringing up the suggestion, Alfred seemed to have no problem with that. It only took a bit a shifting round and the two were on opposite sides of the bed, lights out.

Arthur, though, was still sweaty, and feeling restless. By the time a trickle of drool seeped from the corner of Alfred's mouth signifying sleep, Arthur was still wide awake and staring at the cheap curtains of the hotel window. Damn... he was so caught up with Alfred he failed to notice how shabby this room was. He had high tastes, sure, but they could have done better.

 _'Thoughts like this are keeping me up longer, aren't_ _they?'_ Arthur sighed and flopped his head back onto the pillow. The pillows here were made of down, and further examination proved there to be a hole in his. He couldn't help but focus on the feather that had escaped onto the sleeve of his night shirt, giving it a small scoff before deciding he was too lazy to pick it off. Soon enough he was staring back again, out the window, thinking of what he told Alfred that evening.

He didn't lie, Alfred was still the same as he was when they first met. What he was thinking about though, that was a different story, yet related. Arthur thought back to the time with nostalgia.

It was five years ago that Arthur came to the United States. Five years ago is a short length of time, but sometimes it felt like twenty. During what became his senior year in the US school system, Arthur was the centre of a custody battle and his mother had won the case. Arthur was glad for it―his father was a scumbag―but his mother winning custody meant that they were leaving London and moving to Florida where his grandmother had retired.

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Packing his bags and moving well over 6,000 kilometres across the Atlantic Ocean wasn't too much of a strain on the boy of sixteen years. He didn't really have any friends to say goodbye to―certainly not a girlfriend―and his family bonds were weak to begin with. Alas, the only negative was that he had no choice but to be placed in senior classes at his new school, being that he had fulfilled most of the required US credits by the time he had entered 6th form in the United Kingdom. That meant that not only was he forced into a new country, he couldn't even have the pleasure of taking classes with those of his own age. His academic classmates were only two or so years his elder, but when you were a teenager those few years that an adult would usually overlook were important.

Arthur was not as tall as his peers, nor as strong. And he certainly wasn't as experienced when you took into mind that he was still very much a virgin. It would seem that all the gossip he heard was related to sexual endeavours.

His first and only kiss happened in primary school and he and the girl were so young it hardly even counted. Arthur couldn't be bothered to recall her name. He just never found pleasure in dating, nonetheless having sex.

What bothered him most was that when he walked into class, no one took him seriously. At first everyone was in awe that they had a foreigner in their school, but eventually it became the usual and they ran out of questions to ask. Arthur was just an inferior 16 year-old that was useful for nothing but copying his answers.

On the bright side, Arthur found solace in taking elective courses. Electives tended to have mixed age groups, and if he went to guidance with it, they would put him with the underclassman upon request. His assigned guidance counsellor spoke to students with surnames beginning with 'K' through 'O,' and he was a proud Kirkland.

She was a plump woman with a round stomach like a ball, but her voice was soft and she wore a perfume that smelt of lavender. Her hair was blonde, straight, and bob-cut with brown highlights; without doubt well-groomed in comparison to Arthur's wild sandy blonde mop that fell this way and that all about his head. Despite his indifferent and crabby expression, she smiled at Arthur with the brightest grin that he had ever seen.

Her desk held a plaque with the letters "Mrs. Harrison," but she insisted that everyone call her Mrs. Cathy.

"I think we can figure something out," Catherine stated as she clicked away on the computer screen.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Arthur had surprisingly good manners for a punk rock kid that wore faded jeans with rips so large it was a surprise they hadn't fallen apart as he sat. He was taught to be respectful and never lost the good-kid gimmick even though he preferred the more rambunctious crowd.

Catherine twisted round in her wheeled chair, sliding across the room to find the paper that Arthur had filled out previously with the classes he would like to attend. You could tell it was his because of the near perfect signatures that sat on the page side by side in cursive; his mother's and his own.

"You have room in your schedule for four elective slots, and this says you want creative writing, finance, art I, and band."

Arthur merely nodded to her statement.

"Finance is a smart choice if you're going to live in America the rest of your life. You've got your goals set, don't 'cha?" she grinned again.

"I'd say I do. But I'm only taking it because I wasn't interested in anything else."

"Ah, 'gotcha. You'll probably like the class once you get started. Luckily you got put in our system in the beginning of the school year, so none of the classes are really getting started yet. We have an influx of freshman coming in this year from the new Junior High that was built a few blocks down. A whole bunch of kids are zoned here now," she made conversation as she assigned Arthur's classes and put him into the system.

"Really?" Arthur mumbled in reply, only because he didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah, it's making it busy in the office and putting more stress on the teachers. But at least we're getting funded more with the increased population."

Arthur nodded his head again as a response, seeing that there wasn't much for him to say. He waited politely for the guidance counsellor to print out his new schedule as well as a school map.

"I've circled the room numbers of your classes on the map. If you get lost, don't hesitate to come back and ask for help," she gave him a warm smile and handed the papers over.

Arthur took them and stood up, slinging his rucksack across one shoulder, "Thank you, miss. I'll remember that."

"Oh, also, Mr. Kirkland, it will pass for today but please have a look at the dress code section of our code of conduct," she didn't let her smile drop.

It was then that Arthur felt this Mrs. Cathy's almost fake kindness. Not that the woman was fake, but she must be hiding her dissatisfaction with his attire.

"Yes, ma'am," he opened the door and began to walk out, "I'll come tomorrow in something more appropriate."

He let the door close behind him and took in a deep breath. _'Here goes nothing,'_ he thought as he made his way out of the student services building.

After walking into the wrong classroom twice, Arthur finally found where the arts classroom was. He was more than satisfied with having arts class first period, considering what a stickler he could be in the morning. It was far better than having something like trigonometry or chemistry right when he hit campus.

Upon arrival, Arthur was quiet. The instructor told him he could sit anywhere he wanted after picking up a packet on the teacher's desk. The room was noisy and Arthur quickly snatched up the stapled paper and headed to the back of the room. It was a large group, but thankfully there was a lone stool waiting for him at the rightmost table.

There were three elongated rows of tables, with four stools placed at each one. Arthur gave a quick grin to his tablemates before tearing into the packet. It was just rules and procedures, as well as a safety agreement for using the tools throughout this course. Since he came in a few minutes late after being in guidance, the other students had already finished looking it over and were chatting amongst themselves.

"Man, did you see the new Avengers movie?" a boy with blond hair and glasses asked the peer in front of him, rather loudly, in fact.

"Oui, I caught it last weekend with Gilbert," came another response. Arthur had to bite down a sneer at the French accent.

"Captain America kicked those fucking robots into next week!"

"I think the other guys did most of the avenging," a much softer tone responded, "and you're going to get in trouble for cussing if you keep yelling, Al."

"I agree with Matthew, Alfred. I don't want that grouchy old hag running over here because you have a toilet for a mouth."

"You guys are no fun," Alfred turned away and looked at Arthur, "what about you, new kid, have you seen the movie?"

Arthur turned a glance to the boisterous fellow in front of him and tried to grin, "Yes, I have. I'm a bigger fan of Thor, though."

"He's cool too, I guess," Alfred shrugged, "anyway, what's your name?"

Arthur gave a real smile, "Arthur. And yours?"

"I'm Alfred! Alfred Fredrick Jones."

The Briton found it somewhat alluring the way this boy introduced himself by full name. Was that a common practice? "Oh, that's lovely. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Throughout the class period, Arthur was introduced to all three of the other boys at the table. It appeared that Alfred and Matthew were half brothers, and the other bloke was named Francis. It was going to take some time warming up to the Frenchie, but it wouldn't be that terrible. Hopefully.

Arthur wasn't one to dawdle, packing his things and getting up to leave as soon as the bell rang. When Francis and Matthew left the room talking about a recipe, he found himself with a tag-along.

"So, you're not from here?" Alfred was just guessing by Arthur's accent as he followed him out.

"No, I'm a Brummie," Arthur didn't mind the company, "but I moved recently when my mother retired. How about you, Alfred, was it? Where are you from?"

"Yeah, it's Alfred. And I'm from up state. Maine," He shoved his hands in his jacket.

"Your brother too?"

"Nah, he was born in Canada. But, New Brunswick is just a border crossing from Maine. That's how our dad met my step-mom."

"That must be interesting for you two. I have three brothers of my own back home in England. You wouldn't like them, though. They moved out and I said good riddance."

"Awe, they can't be that bad, can they?"

"You would be surprised."

"Would I, now?" Alfred gave a laughed, "Mattie's not as quiet and nice as he makes it look, either. You've gotta warm up to him, though."

"Is he shy?"

"A little, I guess. Cautious is the word I'd put on it. He has anxiety."

Arthur gave a frown, "That's too bad. I'll try to get him to talk more tomorrow."

"Thanks," Alfred was appreciative of anyone that would give his brother time to open up, "he's a freshie so high school's not his forte yet. He's still trying to find his classes."

"Well then, he and I have something in common," Arthur laughed, "I'm not sure where I'm heading myself right now," he looked down at the school map in his hand and squinted.

"Here, lemme take a look for 'ya," Alfred snatched it out of his hand.

Arthur himself was startled by that, but when Alfred grinned wider and looked a little surprised, he only became more baffled.

"Just follow me, we've got the same class together. 6th period too. That's convenient, I can help you find your bus."

"Oh, that's perfect then. Thank you," Arthur found a light flush on his face from feeling a little stupid. He didn't like needing help from anyone.

But hey, maybe he made a friend?

* * *

 **Author's Notes**

Thank you for reading! I should have the next chapter up sooner or later. This was just an idea that came to me on a whim.

This chapter was mainly for establishing the setting, but I plan to have each chapter focused on a set of Arthur's memories with Alfred that lead up to the present.

I'll figure it out.

Please, leave me a review if you have the time. Encouragement keeps me going! And, if anyone catches a grammatical error feel free to point that out for me.

―KouNoi


End file.
